


A Smuggler's Legend

by Voidspeaker (Cloudspun)



Series: A Star Wars Legend [1]
Category: Star Wars Legends: The Old Republic
Genre: F/M, I'll add in more tags later, add-ins, spoilers for smuggler timeline, spoilers for the corso romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:43:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 13,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5474951
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cloudspun/pseuds/Voidspeaker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Captain Cinnia Cloudshaper: privateer, smuggler, spaceborn. Many would expect such a legacy to mark one as cold, bitter, perhaps even a bit murderous.<br/>Cin has always been one to defy negative expectations, to make her own path and to leave legends in her wake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Ord Mantell

**Author's Note:**

> The chapters vary widely in length; this was originally posted to my writing tumblr.  
> Keep in mind that this will be posted all in one go.  
> Also! There will be a KotFE update when I finish that story-set and have my crew back.

The ship danced among the laser-blasts like a stream among the trees in the more heavily-populated portions of Ord Mantell. Corso watched appreciatively as it landed (quite casually, too!) at the bay and as its captain disembarked. She looked surprisingly young, for the amount of skill she’d shown in flight. He made a point of telling her so while she waited for Skavak.

“That was some pretty impressive flying. You an ex-fighter pilot?” He commented offhandedly. The captain laughed, a sharp, startling sound.

“Stars, no. The man who taught me might’ve been, but I grew up knowing how to fly. Born in space, learned to fly while I learned to walk. ’S as natural as breathing.” She extended her left hand, dark eyes glittering with mischief. “Cinnia Cloudshaper. Nice to meet you, mister…?”

“R-Riggs. Corso Riggs. And…. !” He grasped her hand, felt the chill of metal, and startled. Cinnia bared her teeth in an amused grin; Corso noticed, then, the small, matte-finish cybernetics embedded in her jaw, hard to notice next to her dark skin.

“I… I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

She out-and-out laughed at that, waving his apology off with the cybernetic hand. “I should be the one apologizing; that was a mean trick. Normally I have a synthskin on. To blend in with everyone who’s still fully human, you know?” The smile toned down and vanished behind pinkish-brown lips, as dark eyes turned to where Skavak stood by his speeder. The Captain took on a cool demeanor, forsaking the warm mischievous temperament for something more business-like.


	2. Free Bird

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Without a Ship, without freedom, Cin breaks down. Caged captains are not the nicest people, as Corso learns the hard way.

Corso had never seen such fury as what Cinnia displayed as they watched Skavak take off from the landing pad in her ship. He would later swear that her eyes turned black and red and that the normally-warm Mantellian air around her turned icy cold.

That anger didn’t really fade as she tore through the Separatists. It eased a bit once they were off-world, but he didn’t particularly like what took its place when she wasn’t hyperfocused on the greater task at hand.  
He had stepped away from their table at the cantina in the Republic Fleet, had turned his back for little more than a moment after their conversation about travelling and the opportunities it brought; in that time, she had gone from calm fury to full panic. He came back to her muttering something in a language he didn’t know, eyes shut tightly and breathing very obviously forced.

“Captain?”

“Leave it, Riggs. I’m fine.” Cinnia had growled. Her use of his last name cut off any desire he had to help her, leaving mild passing concern. He sat her drink in front of her and returned to the bar.

* * *

 

He was honestly surprised when someone knocked on his door in the hotel. Even more so when he opened the door to the captain.

“Can I help you, Captain?” He asked warily.She bowed her head, silver hair sliding in front of her face before she tucked it back again.

“I owe you an apology and an explanation. I shouldn’t have snapped at you in the cantina, I’m very sorry.” She said quietly, not meeting his eyes.

“Will you tell me what’s going on, then? Since we’re kinda stuck together until we catch Skavak?” He opened the door further and stepped to the side. Cinnia took the prompt and stepped into the room, standing to the side so he could close the door again.

“It’s…” She started, then sighed. “Have you ever seen a bird when it’s lost use of one or both of its wings?”

“We had a few back on the farm. Usually, my pa would kill it quick-like so it didn’t suffer. Why?” Corso sat back on his bed, watching her. Cinnia nodded.

“That ship… _my_  ship was my freedom, my wings. Being without it… I feel trapped. Helpless. Lost, even. With my ship I could go anywhere I pleased. Nothing was beyond my reach, if I only had the fuel to get there. Now… I’m contained to a very few worlds that the Republic sends shuttles to. It’s like having a cage, gilded it may be, close around me. I’m… realizing that gave me a panic attack; that was why I became defensive.” She leaned back against the wall, still avoiding looking at him. The expression on her face looked like… _shame,_ if he were honest.

“So, you want your freedom back. That… that seems like a good thing to keep. Well… We’ll get your ship back, alright? Skavak won’t get too far with it.” Corso gave her a small smile, which she replied to with a nod.

“Appreciate that. Um… I should probably go back to my room, then. We’ll catch the shuttle in the morning.” With that, she vanished out the door, leaving him in solitude.


	3. Coruscant

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tsk, tsk. People need to learn that Cin is perfectly capable of protecting _herself_ thank you!

Landing on Coruscant again was a less-than-memorable affair. Cinnia got them through customs while Corso distracted the droid, and the chirp concerning at least one warrant out for search and seizure if not outright arrest caught his attention. Cinnia shook her head when he shot her a questioning look.

—

Corso found himself irritated by Dharmas’ flirtatious nature; that the old man was _hitting on_ Cinnia disgusted him, made him burn with-

He barely kept from reeling back at the thought, Cinnia shot him a carefully neutral, yet perfectly concerned look. He shook his head, she inclined hers in a slight nod. Dharmas turned from where he was conducting his meeting, and invited (challenged, was perhaps the better term) Cinnia to a game of sabacc, which she daintily accepted despite Corso’s attempts to warn her away.

 

She shocked them all when she trounced the gambler, and she didn’t once cheat unlike him. Corso was shocked and amused, of course, but acted as though he’d known she would win from the start.

 _“He let his cheats be seen.”_ Cinnia murmured to him, as they left. “ _Famed gambler he may be, he let the idea of a pretty woman get to his head.”_

_—_

Corso could tell, Cinnia had hit it off with Ria; she lied for the nautolan without a second thought. She was a _good_ liar, too.

He tried to ask, but she shook her head.

“I’d rather trust you before I tell you my history. Apologies, but… there are parts of my story that could bring hell down on people if they reached the wrong ears.”

“You trade in interplanetary secrets, too? Stars, Captain, I didn’t know you were a lady of so many talents.” Corso snarked; Cinnia grinned at him, but the expression had a forced edge that suggested he had either stricken a nerve or this was not something to be funny about.

—

They tore through the mobsters on Coruscant easily, like a hot knife through animal fat. The amount of good Cinnia did was astonishing, the number of times she chose the good of others over the good of herself shocked him; he’d expected her to be ruthless and out only for herself, like he had been. 

He felt… shamed and humbled, were he honest with himself. He also felt mildly protective and perhaps a touch of possessiveness where she was concerned.

Or he did until she punched him hard enough to break his nose during a fight.

“Back off and let me **move** , Riggs! I survived and thrived long before you entered my circles, and I will still do so long after you leave them! **STOP TRYING TO KRIFFING CAGE ME**.” She snapped, eyes burning red and blaster aimed (for a heartbeat) at him as it had aimed at her last opponent. The shock of the obscenity (which, admittedly, he’d heard quite a lot during his post-Separatists career, but never from the deadly beauty dancing before him) made her words ring in his mind.  
He stayed out of the fight after, backing her up when she obviously needed him to or when she asked him to, but otherwise leaving her to her own devices.

He watched her dancer her way through their enemy, be they Migrant Merchants, Black Suns, or even Justicars. She asked for his help occasionally, snuck them through more often, and was a whirlwind of blaster fire and vibroknives. Kriff, he hadn’t realized someone could _carry_ that many blades, much less be so incredibly deadly with them.

“Where did you learn to wield those?” He asked on one of their taxi-rides. Cinnia didn’t respond, merely giving him a glare.

“Remind me to reset your nose when we get back to the Senate Plaza. It’s going to heal crooked otherwise.” She muttered.

“Remind me why you had to break it in the first place?!” He snapped in response. Cinnia shook her head.

“If you’ll recall what I said, you’ll understand damn well why.” She rumbled back.

“I was trying to help you!“

“You were _trying_ to cage me. I’ve worked with possessive assholes. You were fitting their behavior pattern to the tee.”

“I’m not possessive of you! I barely even know you!” He protested.

“Yet you get jealous if any other man even looks at me suggestively, much less says a word.”

He… couldn’t deny that. Not honestly. As the speeder set down, he clenched his jaw shut and kept following her like a damned dog.

He didn’t even see the emerald green nautolan that was following them, not until he almost ran into Cinnia, who had stopped dead and stared at the slimy bastard.


	4. Captain

Corso knew by her face that Cinnia was upset about something. The cybernetics embedded in her jaw did some to conceal the tension, but they couldn’t hide the spark of fire in her eye as she stared down the alien before them.  
“Cmon, Squeaks. One run for old time’s sake.” He rumbled, a wide smile on his face.  
“Get lost, Fling. Squeaks died the same day as Meat-head and Grunt.” Cinnia snarled in response, hand falling to where Flashy sat on her thigh. Corso tensed, preparing to draw his rifle.  
“Squeaks, you forget. You owe me. One of these days, I’m going to collect. And you won’t like it when I do. Or, you might, depending.” Fling’s smile turned dangerous, before he turned and vanished in the crowd.

* * *

 

"Captain?” Corso started later, once they were safely aboard the ship.  
“Fling and I used to work with a gang when I was young and stupid.” Cinnia stated coolly. “I was full human then, not a stitch of circuitry in me. Was because of his foolhardy ass I am what you see today. Probably why you see me at all today.”

* * *

 

“I- I’m sorry, Captain.” Corso stuttered. “…what happened? If you don’t mind me askin.”  
“Little girl without any name got involved in a gang here on Coriscant. Got nicknamed Squeaks because she could fly their mouldy speeder without it makin a sound. Anyone else tried, it screamed like a tortured Taunton.“ She chuckled, shaking her head.   
“Squeaks and Fling were in a group of orphans led by one Snaggletooth and his lackeys Meat-head and Grunt. Well, old Snag thought that they should go interplanetary, decided to have the gang strike at this old merchant-looking fellow and his friend with an armor fetish. Snag and the two were dead within five seconds, and the rest of us were in some state of injury within three minutes after. Merchant was a smuggler, well versed in dealing with nine-on-one odds. He saw my piloting a mile away, that’s why he had his mandelorian spare me. He named me after the little girl he’d grown up with on the streets, named me Cinnia instead of Zinnia. I had spice instead of nectar. Paid for my first set of circuits, then the second set when I got electrocuted. After that I earned or stole them. This was his ship. Frame’s original. I rebuilt the rest three times over for my arm, my leg, and my jaw as I grew.”

Cinnia visibly flinched as a high-pitched whine filled the cabin. She threw off her jacket and scrabbled at the skin on her shoulder under her camisole, digging nails in and pulling away what appeared to be a very clever silicon cover from gleaming steel and smoking wires. She thrust the cybernetic arm at Corvo, with a hiss of “Pull!”

He grabbed the (noticeably overheating) metal and pulled. The whining got sharper, louder, before releasing a noticeable clank and snapping back into place. Cinnia yipped, then let out a sharp whine, curling around the mechanized extremity with a choked sob.

“Captain?!” Corso reached out to touch her shoulder, stopping in time to avoid being shot via pain reaction.

“I’m fine.” Cinnia hissed, very obviously lying. “This is all too common, can’t afford to replace the damn thing yet…”

“Maybe I can fix it? I’m not Vidu, never will be, but I have a bit of mechanical skill at least…"

Cinnia gave him a _look_ , but nodded and had him help disconnect the nervous system so she could remove the prosthetic.   
“Break it and _you’re_ buying the new one.” She warned. Corso nodded and let the threat roll off his shoulder.

“I’ll treat it as well as you treat me. Promise.”

“That is _not_ as encouraging as you intend it to be.” Cinnia laughed softly, the smile no reaching her eyes.

* * *

 

The arm was a little more complicated than his blasters, but Corso had little trouble finding the problem. There was a connector that had frayed, pulling things out of place. He took his time tracing and replacing it with one from one of his old rifles, like snaking a vent cable through a blaster.

When Cinnia inspected it, she only gave him a nod.

“Help me get it back on, then? Can’t exactly do it on my own, wires are at a point I can’t reach very well.”  
Corso nodded, gently popping it back into the socket set into her shoulder. He found the two wires that made her capable of feeling, of actually _touching_  instead of just grasping. He watched her shiver as said nerves came online, watched as the little tiny hairs on the back of her neck rose and the skin between her shoulders turned to gooseflesh.

“It feels… looser. Like my real arm. What did you do?” Sharp hawk’s-eyes turned on him, demanding an answer.

“One of the connecting cables was pulled tight and was fraying. I had one handy, so I replaced it. Is it better?” He knew the answer, but it seemed only polite to ask.

“Worlds better. Thank you.” Cinnia smiled warmly, an expression she didn’t wear often.


	5. Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorty, be warned. Also you may notice, we're going through time a bit faster than normal.

“So, you and Riggs, eh Cinnia? What do you even see in him? He’s bigoted, possessive… I don’t get how you can stand him!" 

Corso winced at Risha’s words, electing to stay out of sight and wait for Cinnia’s response. He didn’t wait long. 

”…he has a lot to learn, sure. But… he’s loyal. He’s willing to learn, to change. Stars, he’s already worlds better than he was when he first joined me.“ He could picture Cinnia shaking her head as she chuckled. "He’s not the backwater farmboy that he was then." 

A long silence, then Cinnia spoke again, softly this time. Corso had to strain to hear her.

 "It’s harder than you think, finding someone who is actually loyal and willing to go with you to the end of the galaxy and back. Most people in this line of work… they wait till your guard is down, till you trust them, then take everything and shoot you for good measure. Corso’s had every chance… probably every reason, too, and he hasn’t. That means something to me.”


	6. Conversations

Corso kept in mind what Cinnia had said about him, about his loyalty. It made him feel… proud? to know that she saw him as such. Stars only knew they’d had one hell of a start. Despite the Captain’s best efforts his nose was still slightly crooked, and occasionally she’d still flinch away if he stepped in to cover her; he didn’t mind though, He was more worried about finding Skavak and getting Torchy back. And…. maybe he was a little worried about what he’d said in his happily drunken state before. And how Cinnia had, perhaps jokingly at first, responded.

She hadn’t mentioned it since; he wondered if maybe she’d also hit the drink a bit that night. The good captain apparently had a cache of Alderaanian whiskey somewhere, she’d mentioned it in passing when Risha asked if she ever stopped to celebrate. But, he had to admit if she’d been drunk or even tipsy she hid it well.

“Welcome to Taris, all. Home of Rakghoul ground zero.” Cinnia called over the comms, before leaning back in her chair and surveying the planet they were now orbiting. “Stars, this place will either be the prettiest or the most horrible planet I’ve been to yet.”

“How many planets _have_ you been to?” Corso asked without thinking. Cinnia shot him a grin.

“More than most people my age. Twenty years old and I’ve seen things that would confound _Jedi_. Mostly stuck to the main smuggling routes, though. Nar Shaddaa, Hutta, Ord Mantell once before, and… Coruscant. Plus a few I don’t remember.” She shrugged, standing and walking back towards the captain’s quarters.

—

“Captain? I…have a favor to ask.” Corso cursed his own hesitance; she’d already encouraged him to seek out his cousin, why was it so hard to say he’d found her?

“Ask away, Corso. As long as it doesn’t take us back to Taris or Tatooine, I’ll help you.” Cinnia didn’t look up from the datapad she was working on.

“I found someone who knows where Rona is. Some guy named “Doctor Hope” on Coruscant.”

She looked up, then; it was hard to see, but Corso had learned to pay attention to her eyes, and they were currently flecked with black. “Doctor Hope, huh? Sounds shady. We’ll head for Coruscant tomorrow, I’ll go ashore with you. Pretty sure Risha needs to get used to having Bowdaar aboard.”


	7. A Mule Out of Water

Having the vials put under then cut out of his skin hurt like a Nexu-bite; finding out it had been spice and that Rona had set him up hurt worse. Corso honestly expected Cinnia to taunt him, to have some sort of cynical comment. But, all she had done was pull him over to her personal medical bay and re-open the cuts to clean and properly bandage them. She hadn’t sighed, hadn’t laughed, hadn’t reacted at all. Just… been patient. And understanding.

“You knew all along that something was wrong, didn’t you?” He asked softly, watching as she wrapped his off-hand.

“I knew something was fishy, yeah. But it was important to you that you saw your cousin. So I decided to stick with it. After all… At this point, Black Sun ambushing us would be the equivalent of Snag and company attacking Captain Gaius Mako and Vii. Pretty sure they know a death sentence when they see it.” She responded flatly. Corso blinked.

“Gaius Mako was the captain who adopted you?” He asked. Cinnia nodded.

“And Vii was his Mando companion. Never knew his full name. Gaius gave me his when I slipped and called him ‘Uncle’.” She chuckled, shaking her head. “Last time I saw either of them was on Nar Shaddaa when Gaius told me to take the ship and be free. Don’t know what happened to him after that. But. That aside. Rona is in for a bit of trouble, I think… You think she’ll be ok?”

Corso thought a moment, then nodded. “She’s good at getting herself out of trouble. Had to be, way back when, don’t see why she wouldn’t be now. she knows how to contact me now, if she needs us she’ll yell.” He swallowed. “Captain… Thank you. Even though it was a wild rancor chase, thank you.”

She smiled at him, a small, legitimate smile, and nodded. “I’m happy to do so, Corso. Just let me know if something else like this comes up.”


	8. Negating Debts

Cinnia screaming wasn’t something that was completely unheard of, at least for Corso. Cinnia screaming in _pain,_ however, stole his attention from the droids he was blasting to oblivion.

That slimeball nautolan, Fling, had Cinnia’s arm twisted the wrong way in a vice-grip. Going by the electronic whine coming from her arm, it was the cybernetic one he was gripping.  
In the absence of Corso’s blaster-fire, Fling’s words rung as clear as a bell.

“I did tell you I was going to collect, didn’t I, Squeaks? Time for you to pay up. Or, perhaps I should remove the fight from you first?”

Cinnia didn’t respond past an angry, tearful snarl. Corso hesitated, watching Fling twist her arm even further, before he acted.

The hot end of his rifle got the nautolan’s attention.

“Fling, was it? Last I heard, Cap’n said to leave her alone. If I were you and I valued my head I would listen. Next time I’ll just put a thermal or two in that thick skull of yours and be done with it.” He rumbled, making a note to keep a few detonators on him just in case the nauto decided to try and call his bluff.  
Fling bared teeth at him, but he let Cinnia go.

“Won’t be so lucky next time, Squeaks. Your pet human can’t protect you forever.” With that, he left.

* * *

 

The cybernetic arm was toast; the warped metal and snapped connectors, not to mention the circuitry, was far and beyond Corso’s skill level. All he’d been able to do was help Cinnia disconnect it and remove the sparking, smoking scrap.  
“I’m sorry I didn’t act in time… Didn’t know he was mixed up ihn-” Cinnia shut him up with a look.

“You didn’t know. Kriff, _I_ didn’t know. We’ll be ok. Limbs can, fortunately, be replaced. Just… have to hope I can get a decent one for what I have. But… not here. Different planet. Hutt-space, maybe. Black market there is fairly robust. Lots of good opportunities.” She sank back in her seat, looking tired and worlds older than she usually did.


	9. Facades

Corso knew a secret, one most didn’t know or didn’t take the time to learn.

Cinnia was legitimately a good person.

Ok, so by her reputation on Taris it wasn’t a huge secret. But… most looked at her and saw merchant, out-for-herself, greedy. And sure, maybe that was true in certain cases. But… Stars help you if you bring up something that hurts the innocent, the legitimately good-of-heart. She would  _end_  people just for joking about child-slaves. Maybe because she almost ended up as one.

At least, that was her manner when she _had_  all of her limbs. Losing her arm had been exhausting to her, to the point that she’d let _him_  fly (with close supervision and readily-available instruction, of course). Once they were safely in orbit above Nar Shaddaa, Cinnia retired to her quarters, and Corso to the canteen.

 _“Is the captain going to be alright?”_  Bowdaar chittered. Corso shrugged, then nodded after a few moments.

“She’s just exhausted. After dealing with that slimeball, i can’t blame her.” Corso pinched the bridge of his nose.

 _“You should have torn one of his arms off and beaten him over the head with it.”_  Bowdaar offered. Corso accidentally snorted a mouthful of his alcohol.

“That…” He coughed, feeling his eyes and nose burn. “That might be an idea, there…”


	10. Circuit Con

They landed in Nar Shaddaa again a week or so after the last encounter with Fling. Cinnia had an oddly stoic look on her face, not even reassuring Bowdaar when he questioned whether this was or was not a setup for her to be captured and turned into a slave herself.

So, Corso had taken up the slack.

“She’ll be alright, big guy. I’ll keep an eye on her. If you want to be sure you can come with, right Captain?” Cinnia had barely nodded to the prompt, but it was enough. Bowdaar had chirred softly, something Corso didn’t know how to translate, and had put on what armor he had in preparation to follow.

* * *

Corso _didn’t_  like the district they’d entered. There were honest-to-goodness slave warehouses about a block and a half to the east, and just to the south there was a guy who had looked to be selling still-living organs and limbs. When that one had hollered toward Cinnia, Corso had seen her turn to _glare_. The Devronian had shut up, turning to a different customer.

They were in a different area, now. Nothing around but gleaming durasteel and alloy to be seen. A particular storefront caught his eye, and he got Cinnia’s attention.

She had laughed, the harsh barking kind.

“I’m not made of credits, Corso. That’s the kind a rich Senator gets for himself or his favorite child. Top quality, sure, but they have pricetags to match.” She chided softly, before turning and walking toward a different shop with plasteel lining the window. Corso glanced at Bowdaar, indicating for the Wookie to follow their captain. He had nodded.

Then, Corso stepped into the store whose sign had made him think of Ord Mantell.  
“Welcome, welcome! Come right in, and feel free to browse!”  
The voice was extraordinarily familiar to him. Except, perhaps pitched just a touch different.

“Another Mantellian, all the way out here? I thought the name sounded familiar but didn’t expect to find one of my own in Hutt Space.” Corso smiled, falling back into the easy facade he’d built before Cinnia had landed on his world.

“Why if it isn’t little Corso Riggs! Last time I saw you you weren’t but knee-high, now look at you! All grown up and travelling the galaxy! What brings you here, eh? Surely you didn’t lose an arm in the Peace Corps.” Flannigan grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.

“Naw, I’m just… I’m looking for a friend. Cybernetics on Coruscant aren’t worth half the pricetags for what she needs, and… well. An old contact of hers went south. _Way_ south. But, thing is, neither of us is exactly _made_  of credits, y’know? And… well… I was wondering if you and I could cut a deal?” He tried to mind his wording, tried to play the diplomacy card.

“Corso? C’mon. Everywhere’s high, We need to-” Cinnia stepped into the doorway, and Flannigan stood bolt upright as though he’d been struck.

“You… you’re that captain my boss mentioned! He said he had a friend who’d done a lot of good back on Ord Mantell. Said she was a spacer with cybernetics on her jaw and a country boy flanking her. Corso, you shoulda told me your friend was one of the heroes of Ord Mantell! I’m sure my boss won’t mind sparing one of our prototype models for-”

“For what, Flannigan?”

The new voice was smooth, calm, like a still lake. A tall, lean-looking Zabrak slid easily out of the shadowed back door, eyes glittering dangerously. He glanced from his employee to Corso; when he looked at Cinnia, his eyes widened in shock.

“Cin? What… you should’ve sent me a holo when you landed, child! What are you-” His eyes fell to the pinned-up sleeve where her left arm would normally be. “What in the void happened?”

“You forget, Vii. I never got your comm frequency. Plus, it’s been, what, seven, eight years? I didn’t even know you were still on Nar Shaddaa. As for what happened, he’s short and greasy and tricked me into Snaggletooth’s gang.”

Vii (Corso had known he was a mando, but hadn’t really thought about him being a _nonhuman_  Mando. Somehow him being a nonhuman Mando made him even more terrifying.) nodded. He turned on Flannigan.

“I happen to owe the good captain a drink and a few boons. Don’t get the prototype, too many potential problems. Get that new model, the one we’ve been waiting for Drooga’s latest escapade to necessitate, and size it. We’ll want…” He cast a keen eye at Cinnia, inspecting her, before continuing. “Seven-six. I’ll customize it on the install. Cinnia, we’ll probably have to replace the socket as well as the limb. Any special requests?”

“I’d prefer the sensory jacks be somewhere either I or whoever’s helping me can get to, in case something goes haywire and I need to disconnect.” She said, after a moment’s thought. Bowdaar asked a question behind her, and she turned to mutter something back to him. Corso, feeling caught in a not-so-great location, backed up and leaned against the wall.

“Easy enough. Come. Gaius isn’t here just now, had business a few klicks out, but I’m sure you still have stories to tell, and he’ll be back soon.”

“I still need to pay for the-” Cinnia started to protest, except Corso cut her off.

“Actually, Captain, I was going to pay for it. I… well. I have credits of my own.”

The glare Cinnia gave him sent a shiver of fear up Corso’s spine and promised severe retribution later, but she didn’t protest. Vii nodded and led her (and Bowdaar) out the back door and out of sight. Corso turned back to Flannigan.

“So… beyond that whole mess, how much do I owe?” He asked, trying to figure out if he should follow once creds were exchanged, or if he should wait.

“Considering Vii’s rather steep discounts, my own discount due to your captain’s substantial reputation, and the minor customization… It’ll be about twenty-five thousand. Cheap, really, when you think that this will be the newest and most cutting-edge model out there. Custom-made, for every order. Made from the finest materials available in the galaxy, white or black market. These will regularly go for millions.”

Corso winced at the speech, quickly paying the due and watching as the cybernetics-worker recorded data on his holopad.  
After a few minutes, another figure swept into the shop, their trenchcoat fluttering like a cloak in their wake.

“Flannigan, why did someone access the new model’s blueprint? We weren’t going to start production for another few months.” The old man asked, pulling the mask away from his face.

“Vii’s orders, Captain. Got a special case, her friend here was just settling up the cost. I’m sure he’d like to return to her side, she and her wookie went with Vii up to the conference room.”

The newcomer sighed, and indicated for Corso to follow him.  
“Never thought he’d be one to be swayed by a girl, bloody mando… gonna have words with him… what’d you say your name was, pup?”

“C-Corso, sir. Corso Riggs. I’m Captain Cinnia Cloudshaper’s… first officer, I suppose. We never talked official titles, she just brought me aboard and let me stay.” Corso stammered, not expecting the question. The Captain gave him a knowing look, and huffed.

“Explains why Vii gave her the new rig, bloody bounty hunter always was too soft on her. We earn our way in my command, that’s how it’s been since… since I first got my ship.” He grumbled, leading the way upstairs and bursting into the conference room.

“Vii! What’s this I hear about you _giving_  the biggest break we’ve had in a decade away?!” The captain shouted, visibly startling everyone in the room; Corso saw Cinnia shoot to her feet and draw her blaster with an alarmed expression, Bowdaar had his vibro-blade out, and Vii…  
Vii was just laughing away.

“Gaius, calm down. This was a special case. Besides, I didn’t _give_  it away. Mister Riggs paid the full amount needed. And put the blaster away, Cin. You remember how Gaius is.” he laughed. Cinnia visibly relaxed after a moment, holstering her blaster, but she stayed standing. Corso slipped by Captain Gaius and went to stand at her left side.

 _“Remind me later to yell at you. I buy my own way.”_ Cinnia whispered, watching the argument unfold between the two old men.

 _“Remind **me** later when you’re yelling at me to remind you that I don’t give a pile of bantha manure if you normally buy your own way or not. I wanted to do something for you to repay all the kindness I see you doing for others, so I did.”_ Corso whispered back, watching bemusedly as his captain’s eyes sparked dangerously at him.


	11. A Rare Vintage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A prelude and aftermath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I DON'T WRITE SMUT.  
> I've tried. It was bad.

They hadn’t left Nar Shaddaa that night; the ship was still being repaired from a strike they’d done on an illegal imperial station. Corso had found it the perfect opportunity to make a move.   
Hopefully, the first move of many.

* * *

 

He woke up sore, the good kind of sore that meant he’d done _something…_  
His bedmate stirred, turning over and curling up with her face buried in his shoulder and effectively distracting him. Cinnia looked like a completely different person with her hair down, silver tresses rippling down across her face and over the dark pillows. Corso smiled, gently wrapping his free arm (the one not trapped beneath her pillow) around her waist and pulling her closer.

“My life’d be about perfect if I could stay right here forever.” He whispered, tracing with his eyes the scar that ran from the inner corner of her right eyebrow to where it disappeared at the curve of her cheek. “I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

“You were right. Sometimes it is nice to have someone who’ll take care of you…” Cinnia murmured back at him, cracking open one sleepy brown eye. 

Corso smiled, grinned even. “Any time you need me, Captain. Now, tomorrow, or when we’re both old and gray.” He pressed his lips to hers, feeling sleep tug insistently at his body and mind again. Cinnia made a soft noise, some response he couldn’t decipher, before nuzzling his neck again and relaxing.


	12. Reputation

Somehow, Corso was not surprised that he was the only one of their dynamic duo to react in surprise whenever Akaavi Spar materialized out of nothing at their flank. Cinnia would just look at the Mandalorian with a knowing smile, turning to give her full attention.  
Spar apparently took that as a challenge, once she joined their crew. She would materialize out of a vent, pop out of a previously-empty doorway, something, _anything_  to get a reaction. The most she got was a calm order from the Captain, when she popped out of the vent next to the engines.

“Might not want to hide there, it gets superheated when we jump; I don’t want to accidentally fry you.” Cinnia had chuckled. Spar apparently wasn’t so amused.

“People don't even get a chance to scream when I strike! None of your crew even saw me enter! _Why do you not react?!_ ” She cried, desperation in her eyes. Cinnia held up her hands, smile still in place.

“I have a lot of experience with Mandalorians. One of the people who raised me and taught me was one, though he’d forsaken the Empire for reasons he did not disclose. It’s next to impossible to startle me, thanks to him.” She explained. Spar squinted at her.

“Did this rogue Mandelorian have a name?” She pressed. Cinnia shook her head.

“None that I was given. He insisted I call him Vii. Captain Mako, the other person who was raising and teaching me, called him Viijer at one point, Voyager at another. Other than that, I have no clue what his name might have been.” The captain shrugged. Spar’s eyes widened.

“There was a tale told by my clan about the Voyager, one of the few lone Mandalorians who could strike fear into every sentient being in the galaxy. They spoke of him as though he didn’t exist, or perhaps he lived a century ago.”

“I don’t know. Perhaps you’ll get to meet him some day.” Cinnia chuckled. “For now, though, Ceetoo is keeping the ship on-course, and I for one am exhausted.”


	13. Commitment

Corso knew it was the right thing to do; he honestly did. Sharing a bed with the Captain was honestly a wonderful thing, but it didn’t feel right. It felt… sneaky, if he were honest, to not make any commitment beyond simple courting. It felt unfair, to her and to him. She’d committed to him, he could see it in the way she reacted to other people’s approaches, and he heard about it, when Bowdaar told valiant ballads of her shooting another man’s hand off if he dared touch her.

He still felt like he was taking advantage of the trust she’d placed in him. He wouldn’t go behind her back (stars only knew how badly that situation would end. He’d count himself lucky if he survived), nor would she go behind his, but… he needed to commit. He wanted to ask her to commit.

He needed to find a ring.

* * *

He found the ring three days after they said their vows; Cinnia had, the morning after their marriage, sent codes and filed paperwork, giving him a chance to go aground and search the less expensive shops for something suitable. Thankfully, it also gave him the chance to speak to Vii or Gaius (preferably Gaius) about sizing.

“Wish you’d’a let us know ahead a time, kid. I’d have given you the ring I was saving for her when she found someone. I managed to acquire it from the mandos who captured her and her mother a long time ago, according to them it was the Lady Cloudshaper’s wedding ring. No doubt, Cin’d be pleased to have it again, if a bit upset that she didn’t find it herself.” Gaius handed him a matte steel-grey band inlaid, on the upper half, with an unusual, black-and-purple crystal.

“According to the Mandos, it wouldn’t fit any of them, not even a child. It is, from what I have found, a design unique to a planet that disappeared under mysterious circumstances. They turn up from time to time, and per their owners they are keyed to bloodline alone. They won’t say anything else about it.”

* * *

When he returned to the ship about an hour later, Cinnia was waiting for him at the head of the stairs. She indicated with a gesture of her head for him to follow, and led him into her quarters, promptly shutting the door behind them.

“I’ve had no less than three propositions in the past thirty minutes while I was in the trade district. But, I found something for you. And damn, but it took some looking to find one that hasn’t been attuned.” She produced a band of matte coppery metal, with a stone as blue as Alderaan’s seas inlaid in half of it. “It’ll resize to fit you, and… no-one but one of your family members, traditionally a child, can wear it. It’s… lets just say there aren’t any more being made.” She glanced away, fidgeting with it but pointedly never sliding it onto her own hand. Corso swallowed.

“I…actually had a bit of help. Also a bit of admonishment about not advising people what I was thinking, and a warning that you might be upset with me for finding it before you could.“ He pulled the ring from his pocket, and heard Cinnia inhale sharply.

“M…my mother’s wedding ring…” She whispered reverently.

“And yours as well, if you wish…” Corso offered softly. Cinnia smiled, nodding. She held out her right hand, indicating that he do the same.

His ring _bit_ him, just enough to draw blood, and the crystal turned the same deep black as the one on Cinnia’s, though with some flecks of that crystalline blue remained. Hers sized instantly to her hand, as though it recognized her, and he felt his shrink to his own hand, the metal becoming warm.


	14. Last Straw

They hadn’t seen Fling in long enough, Cinnia wondered if the slimeball had actually died in a back alley somewhere.

He decided to prove her wrong in the wrong company.

* * *

“Captain, we are being followed.” Spar warned softly. Corso loosened Torchy in her holster, and Bowdaar rumbled unhappily.

“He won’t get too close, there’s too many of us if he’s alone. Plus… Corso and I, at least, have a reputation here.”

“You know him?”

“Dark green nauto, blind in one eye? Yeah. That’s Fling. Dunno why he has that name, perhaps he was flung out of too many bars by his tentacles.”

“You’ve let him live this long _why_?” Spar pressed. Cinnia bit her lip for a moment, and was saved from answering by Corso.

“Last time she was in no shape to deal with him; time before, I didn’t know the story and didn’t know her well enough to know who was tellin the truth.” He murmured. Apparently, that was enough for Spar.

“Shall I ambush him, then?” She asked. Cinnia shook her head.

“If anyone’s gonna end this, it will be me. I’m the one who let it go this long.”

* * *

Cinnia set the trap, having the others disperse to where they were out of sight and wandering through the otherwise empty street.

She heard the scattergun being cocked right as she drew her blaster.

“Payday, little slave.” Fling snarled. He didn’t get to shoot, though; Cinnia shot him at the same time Risha sniped. Bowdaar exploded out of one alley, an angered roar preceding him, and Akaavi materialized from another, each flanking him. Corso strode up from behind Fling, an unreadable expression on his face as Cinnia shot one knee out from under the nauto.

“Last straw, Fling. You had your chance the first time.” She hissed, eyes narrow; judging by the surprise in Risha’s eyes, her own were likely as red as a Sith lightsaber. The nautolan laughed hoarsely.

“You haven’t had the guts to kill me yet! How could you kill me now, before all the people of Coruscant?”

“Simple. You’ve threatened my life and by proxy the lives of my crew. You’ve worn on my sanity and cost me far more credits than your life is worth to me. Your slime trail ends here, you miserable son of a Hutt.”

One blast, then two, and the nauto’s remaining eye went glassy. She heard the others gather, heard Bowdaar scoff and Corso sigh; she felt… hazy. Like she’d just been caught upside the head with a blaster-butt. She shook her head, noting that the world lagged behind her movement, and turned to walk back toward the ship.

She didn’t remember making it back to the ship; when she woke up in the medbay, she could only guess that she’d collapsed somewhere along the way.  
She knew why, of course. The realization that she was well and truly free was, to put it lightly, dizzying. Now, no-one could claim to own her, no one could call her by any name she herself did not choose. She was her own, and no-one else’s.

Well, maybe Corso’s but that was a different matter and a mutually pleasant ownership. After all, he was hers as much as she was his.

She laughed at her own sidetracking thoughts, before letting the comfortable haze fade back into sleep.


	15. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This should probably go in a different spot, but oh well.

“Cinnia _Cloudshaper_ , huh? Thought you said the captain who raised you was named Mako?” Guss asked with his usual gusto, leaning against the canteen wall. Cinnia shrugged.

“Who says Captain Gaius gave me my full name?” She responded dryly, sipping the glass of whiskey she’d been nursing all day. Corso perked up, his interest in Cinnia’s mostly-secret history piqued.

“According to all the records I’ve found, there are no other instances of that name for the last three decades.” Risha grinned. “Decided to give yourself a fancy name, then, Captain?”

“No. I kept the name my mother gave me, because it’s one of the only things I have left of her.” Cinnia snapped, eyes reddening. “My name was Sif Cloudshaper when I was born, but no records were ever made because I was born aboard a starship in the middle of nowhere at the edge of the galaxy. I’m not _from_  any existing planet, nor was my mother. Our planet had been destroyed decades ago by some overpowered Sith with a severely understaffed mental capacity who couldn’t leave ancient tech alone. We were refugees. Then, we were slaves brought to Nar Shaddaa. Slimeball that bought me thought I was too dirty for such a regal name and had me stripped of it in all but memory, had my mother killed for fun.” The venom in her voice, in her eyes, lessened a bit. “Then a Nauto popped in out of nowhere and decided to murder the man who thought he owned me, and stole me away to Coruscant. When he asked my name, I couldn’t give but a squeak because I was so scared. That was why I was named Squeaks.” She stood, striding angrily from the canteen.

* * *

Corso entered Cinnia’s quarters softly, making sure she knew he was there but striving to not be intrusive.  
She was sitting cross-legged on the end of her bed, head tilted forward and pose very reminiscent of a Jedi meditation. Corso went and sat next to her, close enough that she could reach out and touch him, far enough that she had space.

“Gaius was all for giving me his last name. Vii asked me if i had one from… before. He insisted I use the one I was born with. Gaius agreed, then when I told him what it was he named the ship after me. To keep people from thinking that I was just some slave or cabin-girl, I mean.” She murmured softly. “He and Vii _adopted_  me, got the paperwork done and everything. They made sure I grew up with a blaster in one hand, a vibro-knife in the other, and more knowledge about any ship than most encyclopedias. They taught me Bocce, then Mando’a, then Shyriiwook, then Huttese. I picked up Binary on my own. I can tell you the codes to sneak into any spaceport on any of the more-common planets. If it has to do with sneaking or smuggling, I know how to do it.  Like with you and blasters, but the information gets confusing if I try to do too much. I already knew how to fly.”

Corso said nothing, only holding out his hand in some sort of comfort-offering gesture. Cinnia scooted over and leaned into him instead.

“Gaius is older than any human has a right to be. He’s lived a hundred and fifty years, partially because he was frozen in carbonite for a decade or two overall, partially because he’s more circuits than flesh and blood. Only reason his vital organs aren’t giving out is some kind of stim he had to take once a week. They’re working on some way to take his mind and transfer it into a droidbrain so he can live indefinitely. He doesn’t want to die.” Cinnia spoke as though she didn’t want her mentor, her adopted father, to die either.

“And Vii?” Corso prompted.

“Vii is Vii. I don’t know much, just that he was betrayed by the Imps and ended up with a starfighter all to himself because of it. Imps wrote it out of their history of course, probably put new regulations in because of it. Gaius conned him into a deal and stole the fighter from him, ended up keeping him as a crew member and…more than a friend, let’s say. Same way you and I are more than friends.”

Corso winced internally. Of course he’d have _two_  father-figures to deal with, should the ever accidentally hurt Cinnia enough to make her leave. Of course, she wasn’t one to run. So, perhaps he’d escape death by double-powered fatherly rage. He’d just have to deal with one very angry cyborg.

Cinnia poked him, startling him from his thoughts.

“They turned me loose when I hit fifteen, gave me this ship and everything I’d need to survive. Whatever I choose to make of my life, they’ll accept me for it, and they’ll accept anyone who, to use Gaius’s words, I managed to con into my ship full of crazy. Stop worrying.” She moved and kissed his cheek, making him chuckle.


	16. (Un)Pleasant Surprises

 

 

“Captain? Are you alright?”

Corso looked up, noting the odd tone - _by the stars, was that_ **concern** _?_ \- in Akaavi’s voice. He glanced at Cinnia, realizing that she did, in fact, look a bit pale, perhaps a touch more sickly than she normally would after having to deal with as much as they had on Corellia. She waved the Mandalorian off, nodding.

“I don’t do well in all-out war. Seeing that much life lost… doesn’t sit well with me. Plus I’ve been under a spotlight from the moment Dodonna was put in chains.” She shook her head, reaching up to massage her temples as though warding off a headache. “If there’s one thing that makes me feel ill, it’s actually having to play politics myself. Leave it to the senators and politicians, I just want my ship and the benefits of my profession. With that, I’m going to go sleep off this hangover and hope that tomorrow is an easier day. Corso, if you would, get us to fleet. Apparently we aren’t done yet.” With that, she straightened and strode towards the captain’s quarters.

* * *

 

Cinnia woke up gagging, and barely made it to the small incineration can before whatever had been in her stomach shot from her mouth into the metal bin. Her entire body _ached_ , the acid that she’d vomited leaving an acrid taste that only brought up more, until she was dry-heaving.  
Stress didn’t do this to her; it hadn’t in the past seven years that she’d kept track of such things. Was she actually sick with something for once?

Someone knocked on her door, making her groan softly. Great, now Corso was going to start being a mother hen and-

“Captain? Is something wrong?”

That was’t Corso. Cinnia made sure she could stand, wiping the last of the sick away from her mouth and walking a bit unsteadily to the door. Akaavi stood at the other side, yellow eyes full of concern.

“I was making sure nothing came on us while the others slept. I heard strange noises coming from your room. Are you well?” Concern was not something Cinnia expected from the Zabrak, but this time it was genuine.

“Think I might have caught something while we were on Corellia. Was debating whether or not to go pay a medical droid a visit before anyone was the wiser.” She responded honestly. One of Akaavi’s eyebrows rose.

“You? Sick? After everything we’ve been through, you get sick _now_? You went through Balmorra and Belsavis without getting sick. Why now?” She asked incredulously. Cinnia sighed, waving her in.

“Stress. Sometimes it doesn’t bother a person physically, sometimes it makes them more open to getting sick. Considering I just spent the first ten minutes since waking choking up the nonexistant contents of my stomach, I’d say it actually managed to get me sick from something. What, I don’t know yet. But, since you’re up, care to accompany me to the nearest sick bay? I’m…not exactly steady on my feet just now.”

Akaavi shrugged. “Why not? Saves you having to wake up one of the others, and I’d rather know whether you were poisoned or not firsthand so I can find whoever tried to kill you.”

Cinnia chuckled, pulling on her boots and setting her blaster on her thigh. She wobbled over to the hatch, motioning for Akaavi to follow.

“C’mon, then. Might as well hurry, last thing I need is Corso clucking over me.”

* * *

 

Cinnia sat up, trying to ignore the cramping in her gut. “Well, doc? What’s the matter with me? Imperial poison? Wild strain of Bantha flu?”

Akaavi chuckled darkly, watching the Republic doctor they’d found as he squirmed uncomfortably.

“Ah… no, nothing like that, Captain. I, ah-… Well, perhaps…” He stammered. Cinnia considered the idea that they had gotten a very new medic, perhaps some kid fresh from the academy or wherever doctors got their fancy medical achievements.

“Perhaps.. _what_?” Akaavi prompted, eyes glittering.

“Y-you must understand, I’m… I’m nowhere near qualified to supervise this, perhaps I should go get one of the droids-”

“Blast it, Doc, spit it out!” Cinnia snapped, feeling a flash of frustration. “Am I sick or am I-”

“P-pregnant! Six, seven weeks. I… I’m only a field medic. I’m not nearly qualified-”

Cinnia felt something in her chest turn icy, as her stomach dropped. _Pregnant_ … It made sense, but…

She and Corso had had a night just before they left Tatooine for Corellia. Both of them had felt betrayed, alone. They’d used that night to reconnect, to fend of the loneliness of space and betrayal. She’d sworn she was on… and hadn’t Corso…?   
The damned field medic was still babbling, trying to fend off what he thought was an agitated Akaavi and generally being a nuisance.

“-simple procedure i-if you want to terminate, over in just fifteen minutes! I-I’ll fetch-”

“No.” Cinnia stated flatly, startling both the medic and Akaavi. “Just because I didn’t intentionally start a life, doesn’t mean I’m going to intentionally end it. We have business on Ilum. After, I’m going to have a discussion with Sumalee about a temporary retirement. Akaavi, head back to the ship and let whoever’s up and panicking know I’m ok. Don’t tell anyone what you know, not until I’ve talked to Corso. I’m going to have a discussion with the good doctor here, then I’ll be along shortly.”  
Akaavi shrugged, turning and walking out of the bay. Cinnia turned on the medic. “I want every record beside my copy of this exchange erased. There’s an extra thousand creds in it for you.” The medic’s eyes widened; he nodded eagerly, handing her a datadisk and working on his datapad. He handed that to her to be inspected a moment later.

* * *

 

 

* * *

 

Corso made a point of cornering his rather slippery partner about an hour after she set their course for Ilum.

“Cin, I get the feeling you and Spar haven’t been honest with the rest of us. What’s going on? Yesterday you say it’s nothing and you just need sleep, then this morning you’ve vanished and Spar says you’re visiting the medcenter. _What is going on_?” He tried to keep the anger out of his voice, tried to block out every negative feeling besides the worry that was consuming him. Going by the flash of fear in Cinnia’s eyes, he didn’t succeed as well as he’d hoped. She tried to duck past.

“Not here. My quarters… Corso, there’s something we need to talk about.” Something about her tone made his stomach sink.

* * *

 

“Might want to sit for this, it’ll throw you for a loop. At least, it threw me…” Cinnia gestured toward the bed, before stepping away towards her desk and pulling her hair down. Corso sat, watching her intently.

“I… firstly, I don’t know how this happened, alright? I thought it was a fluke, some stress-reaction that I didn’t see coming.” She ran her fingers through her hair, pushing it back out of her face. “I thought… I don’t know _what_ I thought I just…”

“Cin.” Corso interrupted. “You’re babbling.”

She didn’t look at him, bracing against the desk instead. “I…I’m pregnant, Corso.”  
The words were so soft, Corso wasn’t sure he’d heard right. But… she couldn’t have said anything else. Pieces started falling into place, but he wasn’t sure the whole picture was one he liked. He stood up.

“Is that why you went to the medbay? To get rid of-”

“Don’t insult me, Corso.” Cin snapped, turning on him with eyes practically aflame. “I’m fighting not to jump ship and run to the farthest edge of the galaxy as it is. I went to the medbay because I couldn’t walk straight for the pain and because even thinking about food made me sick. That is so far beyond abnormal for me, I decided to actually get an outside opinion because I didn’t know what was wrong. Akaavi went with me because I didn’t trust myself walking without someone to keep an eye on me and you have a bad habit of fretting. Plus, she was the only one awake. You really think so poorly of me that you would think I’d terminate? Particularly without even mentioning it to you?” Shades of black mottled the red, rendering it to flecks in mere moments. ”I might be impulsive, but I’m not cruel.”

Corso bit his tongue for a moment, trying to compose himself. Honestly, he had no-one to be furious with, but… he was afraid. He was genuinely, deeply afraid. And… the anger fizzled as he realized Cinnia was just as scared as he was, maybe more.

“How long? Did the medic say?” He asked, focusing on making his tone a bit…gentler. Cinnia nodded.

“Six weeks, give or take. Puts it just before we headed to Corellia, probably the night after speaking with Rogaan. That was the only point I could recall there being any… _activity_ , to put us in this position.” She leaned back against the desk, arms crossed in a stance he recognized from observing her dealings with Skavak, or Vidu. She watched him impassively, the only clue to her internal turmoil the pitch black of her eyes.

“…we can’t stay on the Pubs’ leash.” Corso stated after a moment. “Wherever it is they were sendin’ us, we can’t go.”

“We have to go to Ilum. There isn’t anyone else they’re willing or able to send, and letting it go is guaranteeing a nightmare for everyone involved.” Cinnia responded tiredly. “After that, yes, we’ll rest.”

“But the baby-”

“Isn’t even showing yet. I’m not going to risk my child being lost to Imperial terrorists, I’m not stupid. We go, we do what needs to be done and be quick about it, and we leave. Deal?” Her tone was icy. Corso felt a bit of anger flare again.

“Yessir, Captain.” He responded stonily, before rising, turning, and walking out.

* * *

 

Two days more found them in Ilum, freezing their extremities off as they had in Hoth. Corso had flatly refused to go with Cinnia to face the Imps directly; Bowdaar had gone instead, with nary a chuff.

Risha had tried talking to him, but he’d waved her off to go shoot any pests that were hiding in the nearby drifts. Guss and Akaavi had followed, watching as he ronto-eyed everything that so much as shivered in the snow.

After he killed approximately fifty asharls, the Mandelorian spoke up.

“You’re both being foolish.” She commented offhandedly. “No wonder you work well together, you’re each more stubborn than the entire Empire combined.”

“If you’re trying to make a point, please do so. I’m in no mood for chatter.” Corso growled angrily.

“When has Cinnia broken a promise? When has she forfeited a contract that she signed?” Akaavi challenged. Corso felt the back of his neck prickle as she continued. “Never, unless the contract had some otherwise undisclosed line that violated her principles. When has she intentionally endangered herself? I’ve heard her say perhaps a hundred times since I joined your crew, she didn’t intend to die on a particular day when she was being flung into a situation that seemed hopeless.”

“She’s lived this long. What makes you think that she won’t survive with the child intact? What turned her from durasteel into spun glass?”

“SHE DOESN’T CARE!” Corso roared, eyes burning as he turned on Spar. “SHE COULDN’T CARE LESS ABOUT MY-  _OUR_  CHILD!”

“Is that what you think, then?” Akaavi asked, golden eyes turning colder than the snow beneath their boots. “Is that what you really think? Or are you just afraid that you don’t care? Because I can promise you on what is left of my honor, she cares about that child. She cared enough to swear me to secrecy, until she told you herself. She she cared enough that even though you didn’t intentionally start another life, she wouldn’t intentionally end it. _And_ -” She bared her teeth. “And, she cared enough that she _will_  speak to Sumalee about a retirement as soon as she got off of Ilum. Preferably a temporary one, but, well. Jedi aren’t fond of letting control go. She cares enough, she would likely give her ship up for this child, Riggs. I think you need to step off your soapbox and look at things rationally before you decide someone other than you doesn’t care.”

Corso felt stricken. He glared pointedly at Akaavi, who was otherwise turning her back and walking back into the warmth of the ship, but it felt like something was balling up in the pit of his throat. He turned to stare at Guss, who had coughed in the silence following Akaavi’s departure.

“I heard the captain making arrangements before she left, actually. Something about establishing a co-pilot to take over while she was gone. Now… I don’t know what that was concerning, but it sounded like she was going to ground herself somewhere and let someone else run the privateer gig for a year or more. Just saying. Now, I think I have some hot caff waiting for me in the canteen.” With that, the overgrown fish bolted back into the ship.

* * *

 

Cinnia didn’t speak to or even look at him when she came back. Bowdaar looked a bit scorched, but otherwise none the worse for wear; the wookie had confirmed that the headstrong captain had actually kept away from the fighting for once. Sure, there were scuffles that she couldn’t avoid, but even then she’d kept her distance.  
Corso heard her conversing in what sounded like Bocce with C2 on the bridge, but it was quiet enough that he couldn’t quite understand what she was saying. He mostly stayed away, preferring to deal with his shame and what was left of his anger alone. Cinnia seemed content to let him.

Until they reached Coruscant.

“ _Riggs. Report to the cockpit at your earliest convenience, please._ ” Cinnia’s voice rung out over the internal intercom about ten minutes after they landed, jarring Corso from his thoughts as he cleaned Torchy for perhaps the fifteenth time since they left Ilum. He sighed, jolting to his feet with an angry huff.

“ _At least she said ‘please’._ ” Bowdaar commented offhandedly. Corso ignored him, all but stomping to the cockpit.

Cinnia looked upset; she didn’t say a word as he took an angrily defensive stance before her, the captain’s chair between them. Corso noticed, she was wearing the ring he’d given her three days after they’d exchanged vows. It wasn’t on her hand, instead hanging from a sturdy-looking chain around her neck.

Cinnia caught him looking. “My hands have been swelling enough that wearing it is like clamping a vise on my finger, if I leave it on it won’t come off and I worry about losing circulation. I have enough circuits as it is.” She explained softly, carefully.

“Did you have a point in calling me up here, Captain? Or did you just want to make mindless chatter?” Corso responded stonily. Cinnia’s eyes flared red for a moment, but settled back into their regular brown. She was actually working to maintain an even composure.

“I called you up here to make something official. Until such time as I am physically capable of acting as the _Cloudshaper_ ’s captain and the Republic’s _favorite_  privateer again,” (This she said with great sarcasm) “I am leaving her in your perfectly capable hands. All I ask is you treat her crew with the same respect I strive to; otherwise, she is at your disposal and her missions at your whim. As you were, _Captain_ Riggs.” With those two final words, Cinnia turned and marched past him, back down the hallway and turning left towards the lounge and the airlocks. Corso was frozen in shock, hearing nothing but his own pounding heart in his ears. He heard the airlock unseal a moment later.  
After a minute more, he sprinted after her.


	17. Lovers' Quarrel

“Captain! _Captain_!” Corso shouted, barreling down out of the ship; he glimpsed the tail of her cloak fluttering behind her as she strode down through the spaceport toward the exit, and gave chase. By the time he reached the entrance of the port, she had vanished.

“A cyborg? Yeah, I think I saw her heading for the Senate Tower.”  
“Silver hair? Yeah, she caught a taxi heading for the residential sector.”  
“Spacer, eh? I think I saw her head for the nearest cantina.”

Corso wore himself out searching for Cinnia. He checked the normal haunts for spacers, finding nothing; the Senate handlers had seen no sign of his Captain, and the taxi droid was generally unhelpful. The only break he got was actually from Rona.

“She spoke with some dancer girl over in the Old Galactic Market, nautolan named Ria; said she was in a temporary retirement until her child was born. Did something happen when I wasn’t looking, cuz?”

“There was…a misunderstanding.” Corso ceded. “We fought when she told me she was expecting, now she’s left me her ship and didn’t even say goodbye to the others.”

“Just now? As in, today?” Rona gave him a shocked look, particularly when he nodded. “Corso, give her space. If she’s that desperate, she won’t let you find her. Give it a month. Go do a mission or two for the Pubs. That was what you two ended up doing, wasn’t it? Saving the Republic from the Imperials? Go do that for a while. I’ll keep an eye out for the good Captain. Come back after things have had time to cool; trust me, going from what has trickled down to us here in Coruscant, she can take care of herself.”

* * *

 

A month, then three, passed quickly; Corso found himself flung into politics as much as into combat. He realized, as the days wore on and the persistent headache he’d acquired fighting _not_  to shoot a local official grew worse, that Cinnia had likely dropped the responsibility for ship and crew in his lap just as much for the break as to teach him a lesson.

Still, dread dogged his steps as he returned to Coruscant. Rona had found Cinnia’s apartment pretty easily; the smuggler had a penthouse (for safety’s sake, as every other available accommodation was below street level) in one of the less war-ravaged portions of the planet.

He received a personal comm as he brought the _Cloudshaper_  into orbit; a set of coordinates and a message he decrypted from memory (It was a cipher unique to Vidu and the people he had dealings with).

“Knowing the trade as I do, you don’t want customs to find anything that so much as toes the grey area as far as cargo. This is a safe harbor. Land here. I’ll run interference for you, and your time will be compensated. -C”

Which meant Cinnia had likely left a few things hidden in whatever hidey-holes he hadn’t found yet. He found it hard to believe that, after three months apart, she would readily invite him into her home again, but… he did as requested. Orbital didn’t question the ship, he received no grief for going where he was told.

The garage where he landed was, surprisingly, more than adequate for the ship. Several lifter-droids approached shortly after the engines cooled, some carrying fuel tubes and others carrying crates. A door into a stairwell was standing open, and a holo of what appeared to be an HK droid was standing nearby.

“Greetings. I am to invite you into the living area, but first I am to warn you; there are several Force relics in the storage areas that the master of this stronghold would recommend _not_ touching, as they can cause great psychological harm. The Master is currently not home, but asks that you make yourselves comfortable. Her private quarters are keyed, everything else is open to you. Your ship has been flagged, Traffic Control will not cause problems for you should you wish to make this your permanent landing base.” With that, the holo switched off.

* * *

 

The stronghold (it was too large to refer to as an _apartment_ , it took two floors besides the landing bay and was the top of a skyscraper!) was very nice; the lower floor had a smaller storage area that was carefully organized; rifles and various other weapons decorated the walls in organized chaos, and crates were stacked and clustered in the corners.

“I’ve been working on this collection for a while; things are staged here, and get relocated as I find the place for them. I’m…more reliant on the droids right now than I’d like, but I prefer taking care of myself and little one to being completely independent and stubborn.”

Corso startled, turning on his heel and letting his hand drop to his hip where Torchy sat. Amused brown eyes and a shiny HK droid stopped him.

“Easy, love. Nobody’s gonna shoot you here.” Cinnia chided gently. “Corso, this is HK-51, a droid I’ve been hunting parts for and piecing together in the surprisingly vast amount of spare time I’ve gained. HK, this is Captain Corso Riggs. Treat him as you would treat me.”  
The droid nodded stiffly, then walked back to the elevator. Corso gave Cinnia an incredulous look.

“Replacement?” He asked softly. Cinnia chuckled, shaking her head.

“Project. HK is probably one of the very few droids of his make that are functional. I found the plans for him on one of Belsavis’ moons a good while ago; I had a few people who owed me, so I asked them to go find the pieces for me.” Her expression saddened for a moment. “We probably have a lot to talk about. I imagine a lot of it will be… _sensitive_ , perhaps we should speak privately?” She stepped back, indicating that Corso follow.

“You mean about the baby.” He responded flatly. Cinnia winced, and nodded.

“Yes, about the baby. And what we’re going to do.”

* * *

 

They talked for a long time; Cinnia had explained some things to him, cleverly dodged others, all while both of them tried very hard not to quarrel. Cinnia was perched on a window ledge, legs tucked up as much as she could manage and arms wrapped around herself as though she was fighting off a chill. Corso was pacing, both to work off the restless energy that kept building and to keep himself occupied.

“-can’t keep on like this. The Republic wants _you_ , not me, to lead their ships into battle. They wouldn’t listen when I said I didn’t even know where you were, much less how to request your presence. Apparently they didn’t take your retirement seriously.” Corso leaned up against an empty wall, shaking in frustration.

“Then I’ll speak to them personally. I’d rather you not have to be in another war, Corso. At least… at least our line of work means you come home, even if you come home a bit less than you were.” Cinnia responded, looking out the window at the sunset. Corso blinked.

“I’m surprised, Captain. You dropped everything on me, I figured you were dropping emotional attachments too. Kinda…expected as much, with how I was actin’. I woulda walked out on me too; all that runnin made me see that.” He swallowed, straightening and waiting for her to laugh, for her to-

Definitely not for her to get up, walk to him and pull him into a tight hug.

“I was scared. I was tired. I was angry, in part with you. Sumalee said she’d do what she could, but that she doubted the Council or the Senate would listen. Obviously,” She added, “They haven’t.”  
“I was angry with you. You were assumptive and quite an ass, but… I’ve missed you.  I don’t sleep as well without you. I…I want you to be involved with our child. They need a father. I got lucky, I had two, even if I lost my mother early…”

Corso wrapped her in a firm hug, pressing his cheek to the top of her head (she wasn’t wearing heels for once, she seemed shorter than she usually did). “Cin? You’re rambling. I’ll stay, of course I’ll stay, I didn’t spend three months panicking that some angry ex-imperial had come after you, just to up and leave first chance I get…”

“Observation: You have both been missed by the rest of Captain Riggs’s crew. Suggestion: You should continue your reacquainting after you have eaten and Master Cinnia has spoken with the rest of the crew.” HK droned from one of the doorways. Corso gave the droid a _look_ , which it seemed to register.  
“Observation: I have interrupted something and should cease to do so. Statement: I will wait further instruction downstairs.”

Cinnia started laughing when the door closed behind the hunter-killer droid. “You gave it your murder look, didn’t you.” She stated, pulling back with eyes full of mirth.

“I did no such thing!” Corso retorted, a bright grin on his face. This was what he had missed, what he remembered, before Corellia, before confronting Rogun… this he had missed most of all, even as Cinnia grabbed him by his side-dreads and pulled him down so she could kiss him on the tip of his nose. He scrunched his face at her, earning a mirthful laugh. Her expression sobered a degree, as she stepped back out of his embrace.

“Never before you had I met someone… no, no we’ll deal with that later. For now, it’s been a long journey I’m sure, and-” Cinnia started rambling nervously. Corso decided to do something silly and rather stupid, risking life and limb and a rather sore jaw by kissing her, firmly and insistently. Cinnia rumbled at him a moment, then sighed into the kiss, pressing herself to him as much as possible (he could feel a very _slight_  swell in her abdomen that hadn’t been there last time they’d kissed like this, but then he might’ve been remembering wrong).

“I think that covers everything else that needs to be said, don’t you?” He asked, once they broke apart. Cinnia nodded, cheeks slightly flushed.

“Except a few other things, but we’ll take care of them when logistics allow. One hell of a lovers’ quarrel this has been, hm?” Cinnia chuckled darkly. Corso rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly.

“Let’s hope the next one isn’t nearly this bad. I could do without the silence and separation part.” He replied softly. She nodded in reply.


	18. Nightmares

It was a week after the Rakghoul plague was mopped up. Corso woke up in a panic, hand flying to where his blaster normally rested when he was on the ship, and finding nothing.

His heart started pounding; everything about him kicked into adrenaline mode, he was about to bound to his feet.

Then a metallic arm wrapped around him, a soft murmur whispered calming nothings. His panic kicked up even more.

“Corso.”

And it was gone, leaving instead a deep-seated dread.

“What’s wrong?” Cinnia asked softly. Corso shook his head.

“Nightmare. I’m fine.” He said flatly.

—

That flew for the first three days. The fourth, she got up, had him get up, and pulled him over to the desk where she could sit him down in front of her more-noticeably-pregnant-by-the-week self. She settled across from him, leaned forward, and indicated for him to do the same.

“It’s only been a week and a half. I understand that. But I need you to trust me for a moment.”

Her touch was almost dainty, as soft and light as a feather on his temples. Her dark brown eyes locked with his a moment.  
The world went white. There was nothing but grey eyes in his field of view, nothing but a calming comfort that reminded him of when his mother had held him long, long ago.

The nightmare faded, its dregs of dread loosening their hold on him. He felt himself being pulled to his feet, then led to the bed.

Soft lips met his. Sleep claimed him, as grey eyes faded from his view.


	19. Prospective Futures

It was another sleepless night, at least for Corso. Even after Cinnia had done…whatever she did to get rid of the nightmares, he still would wake up after an hour or two with a deep-seated sense of dread. It was to the point he relied of caff or stims to keep him going during the day and he only slept for a few hours because he fell unconscious at night.  
To say that Cinnia worried over him was an understatement.

But, the upside was he got to see the captain, _his_  captain, at rest, which only happened when she slept. Watching the expressions flicker across her face helped him relax just enough to stay seated at the desk where he was working on Torchy. Except now, it seemed, the nightmares had hold of her too; she had curled around herself, guarding her navel and whining softly enough that Corso didn’t hear her the first time.

Whatever was distressing her, it involved the child she had been carrying since just before they landed on Corellia.

Corso had been thrilled, of course, when he found out that Cin was going to have a child, _his_  child; then, he’d panicked. They led a horrifyingly dangerous life. Cin faced at least three life-threatening situations a month, usually more. Sometimes he was there to help, to protect her, sometimes he wasn’t. If he wasn’t, Bowdaar usually was.  
Suffice to say, Cinnia had flatly refused to continue working under Sumalee until such time as her lifestyle ceased endangering two lives instead of just her one.

* * *

 

_“Corso.”_

The murmured whine drew him from his thoughts. He turned away from the desk, rising from the chair and walking quietly over to their bed.

_“Corso, please… don’t do this…don’t go…”_

His heart dropped into his stomach. She dreamt that he would turn on her, on their child? He sat on the edge of the bed next to her, reaching over and - _ever so gently_ \- touched her shoulder, calling her name in a whisper.

Eyes that should have been brown shot open, rings of cinnamon red around pitch black in the low light.

“You were having a nightmare.” He explained, watching her eyes settle back into a soft brown color.

“You weren’t there.” She responded. “You left, you wouldn’t say why.”

“Well, I’m here now, aren’t I? And I don’t plan on leavin’ any time soon. I promised you I wouldn’t.”

That got a twitch from the corner of her mouth; Cinnia sat up, tugging lightly on Corso’s shirt almost like a request.

“You need to sleep. You’ve got rings around your eyes.” She chided gently. Corso smirked.

“Practicing mothering on me, hm?” He joked, allowing himself to be guided back to bed.

“Have to learn somewhere; besides, if I can resist your pleading eyes and overcome your stubborn will then I can resist any face your child throws at me and get through any stubborn they send my way.” Cinnia pulled him down next to her, tugging his dreds free from the leather band that held them and pressing close to him. Corso sighed, wrapping her up in his arms and trying to set aside the dread that would not let him go.


	20. Kara

He was away when their daughter began her journey into the world. He and Spar had been helping Gaius and Vii make a run to the refugees of Makeb; he’d gotten a ping on his holo during a fight, but he hadn’t been able to respond.

“Riggs. Report back to the ship. Vii, there’s an emergency, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Captain Mako’s voice was sharp, perhaps a bit more stressed that normal; Corso hightailed it back to the ship with Vii’s blessing, once they’d finished docking the transport-barge.

“Something wrong, Captain?” He asked, stepping into the bridge.

“Yes, actually. Cinnia’s in labor and you aren’t there. Now, find a seat and plant yourself in it, it’s gonna be a rough flight.” Mako snipped in response. Corso felt his heart rise into his throat, and quickly sat in the gunner’s chair.

The flight back to Coruscant was a blur; Corso was too busy forcing himself to be calm to notice them landing.

“Go on, Corso; she needs you.” Mako urged gently. Corso blinked, realizing they were in the apartment bay, and bolted off the ship.

* * *

He was late enough that he had to wait with the others; nervous energy kept him on his feet as occasional, muffled cries tore through him.

“You’d think you’ve never been around when a baby was born, Riggs.” Risha teased gently.

“Ma never had any other children but me, and… it’s different when it’s your child. Worlds different than anything else I’ve been through… She’ll be ok, won’t she?” Corso let his worry show; this was his crew as much as Cinnia’s, he trusted them as much as she did.

“She has some of the best healers available. I think I even saw a Jedi Sage in there. She’ll be fine.” Gus assured, an odd, perhaps even genuine, smile on his fishy face.

Akaavi and Bowdaar were standing as well; the Zabrak looked nervous, but Bowdaar just looked exhausted.

 _“We were the ones who brought the healers; Spar sent word to Gaius, who brought you. It has been a long day.”_ Bowdaar murmured, when he caught Corso’s eye.

* * *

It was a good six hours more (eighteen in total, according to Akaavi) before a different screech tore through the room, waking some and startling others. Corso felt his chest tighten for a moment.

A grey-cloaked jedi walked into the room, a bright smile on her face. “Is Corso Riggs here?” She asked in a gentle voice.

“Ma’am?” Corso responded.

“Your wife wanted to see you; it’s time for you to meet your daughter.”

* * *

Kara Cloudshaper-Riggs was born a healthy, squalling girl; she had a fluffy halo of silvery hair and, when she finally opened them, brilliant grey eyes like her father. Due to her mother’s stubbornness and a perfectly valid threat from the entire ship to vanish and take half the fleet’s support, it was agreed that Cinnia would take an advisory role only, allowing others to take her place until Kara was old enough to travel with her.

(That, of course, only lasted until Cinnia grew tired of paperwork and her mischievous little girl was weaned. Word of the long-dead turncoat, Revan, was greeted with gleaming blasters and an eager crew.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand that would be that. Wrapped up in time for the Shadows of Revan xpack, we'll resume when I've gotten far enough in KotFE to write another substantial piece.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm very sorry for length; the first few chapters will be exceedingly short.


End file.
